A Tale of Two Planets
by Rogue Krayt Dragon
Summary: Charles Dickens' classic novel set in the Star Wars universe
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: When I read **_**A Tale of Two Cities**_**, I brainstormed and realized that many aspects of Star Wars were similar to those of the novel, and this story was born. However, this story has only a few characters already considered canon by Star Wars, and mostly tells the tale of characters based upon the ones from the novel. If you didn't enjoy the original novel, you might enjoy it set in a galaxy far, far away and written in 21****st**** century English. If feedback is positive, I will continue to post segments of the story. Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material with origins in **_**A Tale of Two Cities **_**and Star Wars.**

_**1**_

It was a 1300 hours standard galactic time, during which a small transport freighter, carrying certain goods and transmissions, was en route to the capital of the galaxy, Coruscant, from the sovereign military base of Anaxes. The freighter slightly resembled a Nubian yacht, though it was obviously heavily modified for deep space travel. It was made for one purpose and one purpose only: transfer of goods and services between the two planets afore mentioned. This trip, however, the going was harsher. Even in hyperspace, the ships lights were dim, resulting from a freak solar wind storm occurring parsecs away. The engines would stall, but, not anywhere near shutting down completely, would push through the electrical currents caressing the ships exterior. The captain, a Corellian, wiped sweat from his forehead as he shouted to his second-in-command to divert more power to the forward thrusters. The stars shifted in hyperspace, calling to the crewman as they pushed the engines, struggling to keep them online. Through gunning controls and instilled will and reason, the craft pushed on toward its destination.

Three men (or women, it was impossible to tell because of the layers of clothing) were seated in the cargo hold, leaning against boxes of foodstuffs. Every time the ship would lurch, each would wince, wondering with worried minds whether the old crate would hold together. Each distrusted the other, sneaking furtive glances from beneath bundled cloaks of suspicion, for this was a dangerous part of the Perlemian Trade Route, with many pirates and spice runners eager for valuable tokens of wealth from two of the Empire's strongest holdings. It was a challenge to police, and an even larger challenge to navigate. This was precisely the reason that the freighter, at the time named the _Core Runner_, was using this particular route.

The Corellian captain swore. "Jaerl, how are we doing on time?"

The second checked the chronometer. "Looks like 1302, sir."

The Corellian swore again. "We aren't even close to the Draggon Nebula!"

He beat a fist against a bulkhead. The engines gave a groan and sped up again. It was at that moment that the _Core Runner _was violently jerked out of hyperspace. The blue starlines rapidly shifted to single stars, and there was not an object to mark their position save a single _Lambda_-class shuttle, barely 300 meters away from the stalled freighter. Instantly, the captain was up on his feet, barking orders to his crew to open all batteries and prepare to fire. The freighter, despite its shaky condition, was very well armed, and could match a craft twice its size. The Corellian paused and stared out the window at the shuttle. He wondered exactly how something so small could produce a gravity well large enough to pull the significantly larger freighter out of hyperspace. He hailed the shuttle on an open frequency.

"Unidentified shuttle, this is _Core Runner_. You are interfering with our transport mission. If your craft continues to stall our transport, we will be forced to open fire. What is the nature of your intrusion?"

There was no response for a matter of minutes, then, a voice came over the comm.

"_Core Runner_, I don't wish to stall your transport any longer than necessary, but I'm looking for a passenger of this ship."

"Who is this passenger?"

"A man by the name of Javric Liessan."

A crewman escorted the three passengers to the command space. They were still heavily shadowed. The captain turned around in his chair to face them. He looked each one over, and said with conviction, "Which one of you is Javric Liessan?"

The slightly shorter passenger stepped forward. He spoke into the comm. "Juos? Is that you?"

The voice from the shuttle spoke again. "Yes, it is me."

Javric removed much of the cloth from his face, revealing himself to be an older man. "Tell your gunners to stand down, Captain. I know this messenger."

The captain signaled to the second, still watching Javric warily.

Juos spoke yet again. "I have a message from the IBC on Anaxes."

Suddenly, a few short words appeared on a computer console. The communications officer and Javric stared at it. Javric proceeded to read the message aloud.

" 'Wait at the Hotel Royale on Coruscant.' Juos, my answer is 'resurrected'."

"I'm a bit confused, but will return that message. Best be to you, Javric."

The shuttle turned around rapidly, and blasted its way into hyperspace.

The Corellian sat and stared at the empty space for a few seconds, until finally giving the order to proceed, giving the bulkhead another good whack.

Javric disappeared below deck once again.

The second walked up silently behind the Corellian. "Sir?"

The Corellian turned his head slightly. "Yes?"

"What in blazes do you think that was about?"

The Corellian stared at starlines. "I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

_**2**_

Anaxes.

It was a sobering, but somehow comforting place, even in the full darkness of night.

Leaving his shuttle at the spaceport under high security, the messenger walked silently in the streets. His cloak concealed everything on his person, including the good size flask of liquor, already two-thirds empty. Being night, the occasional passerby could notice nothing but the fleeting outline of a shadow.

Juos muttered to himself, indistinct fragments of sentences that sounded like "why did he pick me" and "resurrected…whatever that means…" There were infinities of doubts within his mind, as he struggled to perform such basic actions as simultaneously walking and thinking.

The Intergalactic Banking Clan, whose secondary office was stationed on Anaxes, was a shadowed, undermanned building. Juos had specific and irreversible orders to deliver his message to the senior supervisor. He walked on.

The _Core Runner_, in hyperspace, jolted the passengers, again seated in the cargo hold. Javric Liessan sat with his head bowed low, contemplating. No one spoke, with little surprise to anyone. The only sounds were the occasional jolt of the cargo and the steady hum of the ships increasingly functioning engines.

Javric, a businessman, was an executive in the Intergalactic Banking Clan. He wondered how far Juos had gotten. His message was one of urgency, for Liessan was to recover someone. The upcoming encounter would play through his head…

"How long?"

No difference showed in the answer, no matter how many times the scenario drew itself out:

"About eighteen standard years."

"How did you feel?"

"There would be no one coming."

"Does your life have meaning, still?"

It was then that the prisoner would look up, every time, and say:

"I don't know."

There would be a lengthy pause, then:

"I will be bringing her with me."

The prisoner, in spasms of feeling, would grab the hem of his cloak, and say nothing, yet say multitudes with the pleading, the fear, and the confusion in his eyes.

With that time would slow, enough to watch the individual particles of light shine in their path. The prisoner would slip away again, requiring Javric Liessan to pull him from the abyss. Javric would ask the same questions yet again, routinely. The answers would be exactly the same:

"How long?"

"About eighteen standard years."

"How did you feel?"

"There would be no one coming."

"Does your life have meaning, still?"

"I don't know."

Silence.

Javric Liessan gritted his teeth. This was his absolute duty, to this prisoner. No matter how challenging, or how dangerous it was going to be.

No matter what the risks were.

The silent passengers sped on, growing ever closer to Coruscant.


	3. Chapter 3

**_3_**

The _Core Runner _landed on a landing platform, receiving a welcome by a senate guard, who had been assigned to escort. After touching down, Javric Liessan's two fellow passengers had departed for their respective destinations. Being a member of the prestigious Intergalactic Banking Clan, Javric always seemed to get a hint of high-class treatment, though he felt far from needing it. They escorted him to an airspeeder, and flew through the heavy traffic toward the Hotel Royale. His entourage and the doorman exchanged pleasantries, and he was escorted yet again to the most spacious room in the entire hotel.

_Most unnecessary._

It was only dusk on Coruscant, barely hinting at the lights that would illuminate the nighttime. Peace and quiet was almost impossible to attain, by the banker's standards, despite the hotel's attempts at simulating it. The aging Javric Liessan proceeded to remove much of his many layers of cloaks, which had become cold during interplanetary flight. He sat on the bed, feeling the air currents rise and fall in the enclosed space. Javric, true to his years as a banking executive, remained calm and placid. After this, he dropped into a deep sleep, only to be awakened by the server droid, impatiently wanting to know exactly what he wanted for breakfast.

Javric looked at his chronometer. It was early morning on Coruscant. He told the droid to bring him a nice strong caf. The droid returned, and waited as Javric sipped his caf. "How does it taste, sir?"

Javric didn't turn, but simply said, "Not too weak, but not too strong. In other words, excellent. Tell the manager of the hotel that I am expecting someone, who may ask for either Javric Liessan or the Intergalactic Banking Clan representative."

The droid took a few seconds to process this information, and departed. "As you wish, sir."

In a sudden spurt of inspiration, Javric left his seat and walked to his graciously provided balcony. The warm air suited him and his drink, despite the pollution and the traffic. He sat and stared at the ships of all shapes and sizes as they propelled at a steady pace across the horizon. Javric had no sense of passing time, and was only slightly surprised when he looked at the sky and realized it was dusk again. A whirr of mechanics caused him to turn around. It was the droid again.

"Sir, the manager has asked me to inform you that the visitor you anticipated has arrived and would like to see you urgently."

Javric smiled a crooked smile. He eased upward, setting his long empty cup on the table in the room. After staring at traffic for the day, he had a new sense of energy that surpassed what he had felt before.

Yet, something seemed amiss.

Javric, a man of banking, was also a man of senses.

After reaching the manager, he was told to go to room 746. The turbolift upward was less steady than usual, and the carpet on the floor of his destination's hallway was redder than he'd first noticed.

743…744…745…746.

He placed his palm on the sensor. Surprisingly, the door opened without command. Also interestingly, the room he stepped into was pitch black.

Being a man of senses, Javric was ready. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness. It seemed, however, that nothing was in the darkness but a young woman, of maybe seventeen. Wearing something conventional rather than traditional, she stepped forward to greet him. "Javric Liessan?"

Javric nodded. He sensed a fleeting memory of the woman, from somewhere deep in his mind…

But the moment passed just as quickly as it had arrived. "Lecilia Mornhtne?"

She nodded as well. "I was told, by your office on Anaxes, that there were some possessions of my father's, to be dealt with…"

Her face became harder when saying this, causing Javric to hesitate even more about what the main point of this meeting was.

"The office, for some strange reason, refused to give me details. Why would that be, Javric Liessan?"

Javric hesitated again. After all his experience in these matters as a banker, there was something about this one that couldn't place itself in any kind of category, maybe because of the people involved. He took a deep breath.

"What if I told you your father was alive?"

In that instant, Javric was tackled and hurled to the ground, by a figure dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit, but he didn't get much of a glimpse, as the figure just as quickly turned behind him and he felt the cold metal of a vibroblade against his neck. From what he could still make out, Lecilia Mornhtne still stood in exactly the same position as when he first walked into the room.

"Don't move." A cold, hardened female voice breathed in his ear. "You are treacherous, sir, and not simply a man dispensing secrets."

He saw Lecilia gesture. "Let go, Lady Rhea. I know this man. He was a friend of my father's."

The grip on Javric's neck loosened. He felt himself sliding to the floor, shaken. "Even in your age, Rhea, you are still quite wary."

She grunted, still under suspicion of Javric. He took a deep breath, and continued.

"Miss Mornhtne, it is true. Your father is alive. He is in a bad state, but alive nonetheless. We think that you might be able to bring him back from whatever world his mind has trapped itself within. He is residing with an old colleague-"

He paused a moment before continuing, knowing that the request he was about ask for would be sudden.

"-on Anaxes."

**Author's note: I decided to drastically change the character of Miss Pross from a traditional caretaker of Lucie Manette to the highly experienced bodyguard of Lecilia Mornhtne for two reasons. It fits better with the Star Wars theme and it would make a certain action-filled scene near the end of the book (involving a pistol in the original and a blaster in my version) much more spectacular. Please review!**


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